Technological Advances
by Liisarr
Summary: Merlin honestly didn't wire money out of Arthur's bank account when he tried to buy a laptop. It's all just a big understanding. Modern AU.
1. Chapter 1

"I hate this ruddy shop! Not all of us can just flash customers a smile and get them to part with a few thousand pounds! It's not that simple."

Merlin tried to tune out of Cedric's whinging. It was a regular occurrence, happening almost daily now. But really, when they were on the shop floor, all Merlin was really interested in was selling products, no matter if they were the super-expensive laptops, right down to the smallest of MP3 players. They worked on commission, and while it wasn't a lot, it was what he needed to get himself through the month. Besides, talking to customers made the time go faster than listening to Cedric.

It wasn't that Merlin couldn't relate to the problem, though, because he definitely could. Selling anything over a few hundred pounds, which was the majority of the stock in the store, was difficult in the current economic climate. He really hated it when people used that phrase as an excuse, but it was true. There was no doubting that it was much more difficult to get people to part with their hard-earned cash these days than it ever had been in any of Merlin's previous jobs, and there was quite a list of jobs he'd started, then left.

Most of them in retail, and the experience had allowed him to get this one. Jobs which came with commission were high in demand, but Merlin had quickly came to realise that it was only a benefit it you actually worked hard enough to pull in the big sales.

"Why don't you try selling headphones for a bit?" Merlin suggested, since they were currently standing around some of the most high-end laptops, which were notoriously hard to sell.

Cedric snorted, not wanting to degrade his status enough to hang around the headphones, one of which actually cost _under _a hundred pounds. _The horror_!

"I'm not wasting my time there, Merlin. Everything's fine for you - they just think you're sweet or whatever and practically throw the money at you."

Merlin glanced to his right, a plan forming in his head, but one he knew he would end up regretting before long. It wouldn't be the first time he'd resorted to such measures, either.

"Okay, fine. My next sale, I'll give you credit for."

The grin on Cedric's face was almost grimy.

"Thanks mate, I knew there was a reason everyone seems to fall at your feet."

Merlin nodded humbly, then headed off to the other side of the store. Here a lot of people just hung around, playing on the products with no intention of actually buying anything. It was sometimes difficult to find the people serious about making a purchase, but once they were located, selling was generally easy. Most of these people had already thought long and hard about a purchase, and this was just the final stage of that process.

"Can I help you with anything?" he asked a freckly teenager, who was currently playing on a racing game on one of their more popular models.

Ten minutes later, he was handing over a mid-range MP3 player in a plastic bag, wishing the boy a pleasant day as he counted the crumpled ten pound notes into the till. He was signed onto the till using Cedric's name, so he'd get all the credit for the sale, and the small amount of commission would go into his pay check at the end of the month. Merlin wasn't too worried, though - he could sell something of that price at least twice an hour, every hour, if he was so inclined. But there was something much more exciting about selling the more expensive items. He liked the challenge.

"Well, you've officially sold one thing today," Merlin told Cedric once he'd made his way back over to one of the laptop tables. The man in question was just staring at the wooden table top glumly until he heard Merlin's words.

"That's great mate! I completely owe you one."

"Yeah, you do. So bugger off to the headphones or something, would you?" Merlin requested, his tone teasing as he forced his usual sparkle back into his eyes.

"Whatever you say, mate," Cedric replied, clapping the younger man on the shoulder as he headed away from the stand.

Finally, peace. Merlin breathed for a second, then got back to work.

"Can I help you with anything, Sir?" he asked, talking a few steps towards the nearest person on a laptop. He was blonde, tall, and looking rather frustrated about something.

"Yes, actually. Is this the best model you have?" the customer asked, indicating the white laptop in front of him.

"It's not, actually. This one was released last year, but we've got a newer version over here which has a few extra features and is quite a lot lighter and thinner," Merlin explained. He gestured for the man to follow him over to that laptop, expecting he'd want to try it out.

"Good, I'll take that one then," the man announced, without taking a single step.

Merlin blinked in surprise; sales were rarely that easy.

"Okay, if you're sure, Sir. I'll just fetch you the box from the stock room. I won't be a minute."

He raced through the door and into the back shop, wanting to get the sale through the tills before the man could change his mind. From this model, Merlin would get quite a decent amount in commission, especially since this was the product they were always meant to be promoting above all the other laptops.

He lugged the heavy box through the code-protected doors, and relief rushed through him to see the tall man still standing there, though he did look rather impatient.

"Here we go," Merlin said, unnecessarily. "If you want to follow me over to the till point."

The pace he set was slow, mostly due to the fairly heavy box he was carrying. He thought that he could make out the man's footsteps behind him, despite the constant high volume in the shop.

"These models have been quite popular over the last few weeks, you know," Merlin said, trying to make small talk, as he did with all his customers. The man didn't seem to have heard him, so he let it drop.

"So, that'll be £2,459, please," Merlin said, tapping the right buttons on the screen to allow his customer to place his card in the reader. Absently, Merlin wished he could be the kind of person to march into a door, wave his credit card around and buy one of the most expensive items that was sold there. He daydreamed a bit more as the man entered his pin number, taking extra care to make sure Merlin, or anyone else, couldn't see the numbers that were being pressed. It wasn't exactly unusual, but Merlin didn't like the thought that people didn't trust him.

Then a big, red error message came up on his screen.

Merlin gulped.

"Umm, it says that your card has been rejected by the card issuer," he announced. It wasn't the first time it had happened, and it was just as embarrassing every time. Really, it should have only been awful for the customer who owned the card, but Merlin always felt sorry for them as they got more and more flustered.

The man just blinked, though.

"Just try it again. It must have been a mistake," he said, speaking confidently.

"Sorry, Sir, but it says I'm not to try to process the card again." It was the truth, and he even swivelled the screen around so that the customer could see the huge, bold letters telling him that that card had been rejected, and then in a slightly smaller, but equally noticeable, font that the card should be returned to the customer and not attempted to be processed again. Merlin wasn't about to break company policy over this, even if it would be missing out on rather a lot of commission. "It suggests you should call your card issuer to sort out the problem," Merlin explained.

"Yes, I can see that. I can read, thank you," the man snapped back. "Wait here - I'll be back shortly, and you _will _try to process the card again."

Merlin tried not to gulp at the concealed threat and nodded his head. He wasn't about to get on the wrong side of this man, though he feared he was already there.

As the blonde man strode off to push angrily at buttons on his phone, Merlin just stood awkwardly at his till. He'd barely been waiting for two minutes when another employee asked what he was doing, and Merlin had no choice but to reply that he was waiting for someone. He indicated his customer and muttered something about how his card had been rejected. Helen just nodded her head, but with a raised eyebrow which suggested he wasn't doing the right thing. He really hoped he was, though. The managers were always going on about great customer service, and waiting for a customer while they were trying to sort something out was certainly good practice. He just hoped it wouldn't take too long for the phone call to come to a conclusion.

Several more minutes later, Merlin was sure things weren't going well. The man's movements were becoming much more agitated. He gesticulated wildly at something he was being told, spinning on his heel so that Merlin could see the unsuppressed anger on his features. The employee was unaccountably glad that he wasn't on the other end of that phone. Then, the pacing began. Other customers were starting to give him wary looks and bypassing him as they moved from one part of the store to another. Merlin wanted to tell them to calm down - things obviously weren't going well on the phone, but that didn't mean he was about to get out a gun and start shooting. Well, actually, for all Merlin knew he could have a gun. He shifted his weight uncomfortably. But for some reason, he was sure that the man didn't. The card fiasco was just a misunderstanding.

He was quickly pulled out of his contemplating as the end call button on the customer's phone was stabbed with a thumb, and then the owner of the phone was striding towards him. Merlin tried his best to look calm and collected, like he was completely in the right. Because he was, after all, even if he didn't necessarily feel like he was at that particular moment.

"You've done something to my card, haven't you? Think you can wire money from it, do you? How did you get my card number? I have very good security, so you can rest assured you'll never get a penny from me."

Merlin stood, silently and still. He couldn't believe someone was literally accusing him of stealing someone's money. Thousands upon thousands of pounds from the sound of things, too.

"I honestly haven't done anything. We can't do anything like that from these tills – honestly."

"Well maybe you didn't do anything from this till, but you've done something somewhere. And I'll find out what. And then I'll get you fired. See, wouldn't it just be easier to tell me now?"

Merlin shook his head stiffly, lost for words. The man seemed to take this as a confession. His eyes narrowed considerably.

"I will find out, so if you want to keep your job, stay in touch." He spoke harshly, without the slightest hint that he actually wanted to hear from Merlin ever again. He handed over a card which didn't even have a name on, just a number. Merlin took it with a shaking hand. "Merlin," he crazed man said. Merlin's eyes flicked up out of habit, and he met the customer's eyes for barely a second. "I'll remember that name, to give to the lawyers." Merlin gulped at the threat.

Then, all of a sudden, the man's tone changed. It was no longer threatening, but under normal circumstances Merlin would still have been intimidated.

"Put it on reserve for me - I'll be back to collect it shortly," the man commanded, the fury which had been on his face only moments before barely concealed. He didn't even wait for Merlin to react before he was taking quick strides out of the shop, creating a path through the crowds of people as they moved out of his way, somehow instinctively reacting to the anger radiating off him.

He had a really long stride. He must have taken less than ten steps to get all the way to the other end of the shop and leave, merging almost instantly into the crowds of shoppers which crowded the space between the tech shop and the clothes shop opposite. Merlin tracked his blonde head for a second, but then he was gone, the wall creating a barrier he couldn't see through. Well, if he'd been that bothered he could have made the wall translucent, or even completely invisible. It probably wouldn't be a great idea to draw so much attention to himself in such a public place, especially one where he was well known. The magic had the potential to be tracked back to him.

It was only then that Merlin realised it must look like he'd been staring into space for quite a while. Well, he supposed he had in a way. He flicked his eyes around him quickly, hoping no-one had seen his preoccupation. Pulling the laptop box off the counter, he set about finding a reserved sticker to put on the box, before realising that he had no idea what the customer's name had been. He hadn't even caught a glimpse of the name on his card as he put it in the reader, since he'd been so busy trying to conceal it. Merlin frowned, but accepted that it would have to do. He returned the box to the stock room, then headed back onto the shop floor. But he really wasn't in the mood to work anymore, his thoughts too wrapped up in the unknown story of the man. He couldn't focus properly for the rest of the day.

Rather than decreasing as his feet pounded the streets of London as he looked for a free taxi, his anger was swelling. Just who did his father think he was to withdraw all the funds from his account? Arthur had things to buy. Important things to buy, and he couldn't bloody well do anything with an empty bank account!

Eventually he found a taxi, and attracted the cabbie's attention by practically stepping in front of the moving vehicle. Not the wisest move, but he wasn't in the best state of mind at that moment.

It dropped him off outside his father's work building. Arthur went to shove him a fifty-pound note, but then hesitated when he realised that his funds may not be quite as unlimited as they once were. He grabbed a twenty instead. It was still a five pound tip, which was a fair amount more than the man deserved. The taxi wasn't the cleanest he'd ever been in. Just another reminder why he preferred private cars to semi-public transport. He didn't like the thought of other people sitting in the back of the vehicle he was travelling in. Cars should be his, and only his. Even if he rarely drove himself around London.

He stabbed the button for the twenty-sixth floor after he'd been cleared by the receptionist. Uther was being called as the lift moved steadily upwards so he would be prepared for Arthur's entrance. The blonde haired man wondered if he would be prepared for Arthur's anger, too.

Meanwhile, potential clients were being shuffled out of Uther's meeting rooms. It didn't really matter, since they were only after a fairly small scale deal. Barely worth all the dinners and small talk, but Uther allowed it anyway. It made work more interesting.

The older man was standing in front of his desk, hands clasped in front of him as he waited for his son's entrance. It didn't take long. Uther heard his heavy footsteps on the hallway before the door was thrown open. The raised voice greeted him almost immediately as Arthur put forwards a very poorly thought out argument for all that reasons why he didn't deserve to have his money taken away from him. _His_ money. Well, that was rather humorous. Uther's son had never worked for a penny in his life, and that was the exact reason why the Pendragon was going ahead with this scheme.

Uther held up a single hand, calling for silence. Arthur broke off his monologue almost at once.

"It's been almost six months since you graduated from Cambridge now, Arthur. And what exactly do you have to show for it?" Uther demanded.

"Lots of things, actually."

"Such as a broken laptop which was thrown through a window when you were angry?" Uther snarled. "No, I'm not relenting on this one. You have to learn your lesson. Money doesn't grow on trees, even for a Pendragon. I didn't earn my millions by sitting at home watching day time television."

"I don't watch day time television," Arthur retorted, even though he was aware that he was losing the battle.

"That is beside the point! You do not work, you do not make money, and therefore you are not deserving of mine." There was silence for a second, Uther glaring at his only son as Arthur stared resolutely at the opposite wall. "You need to learn to earn your own money, and then I will consider re-instating your credit card benefits."

Arthur didn't care too much about that at the moment, though it was a major inconvenience. He was too busy working out how much money he had across various trust funds, set aside for him which were designed to be used in emergencies. This certainly was one.

"I know what you're thinking," Uther proclaimed. "No trust funds, either."

"But father...! You would really see me starve on the street, or live in squalor?"

Uther sighed, pressing a hand to his forehead as he shut his eyes and considered. "Fine, one trust fund, and only one."

Arthur smiled triumphantly. There was at least a million in one of them. He knew from prying on his father's documents several years ago. By now, the interest would have made the sum significantly larger, even though they were supposedly in a recession.

"The smallest one, mind you," Uther added. Arthur's face fell.

"What, that's got to have... a couple of thousand! At the most! How am I meant to live on that?" Arthur demanded, outraged.

"That's the whole point! Haven't you been listening? Honestly, Arthur, this is when you truly learn. If you don't manage this, then I fear I've failed as a parent." There was a brief pause. "You are dismissed."

Arthur remained rooted to the spot, determined to make his father change his mind.

"You are dismissed," Uther repeated, the annoyance in his voice cruel and strong.

Conceding defeat, though not permanently, Arthur left the room. He would go and withdraw the money from whichever trust fund he'd been allocated, no doubt it was being made available to him as he walked, and then he would find money through other means. He didn't know exactly what yet, but it would not involve a regular job. Pendragon's didn't have regular jobs. He'd just have to find another way.

But to start with, he needed a new laptop.


	2. Chapter 2

It wasn't that Merlin was too afraid to call the number he'd been given. It was just easier to text.

That way he wouldn't have to hear the same threatening voice as he had when he was standing behind the counter that morning. But he had to do something to contact the mysterious customer, because he really didn't doubt that his life could be made very difficult if he didn't. The threat of legal action had seemed very possible, and Merlin would probably lose his job before it even came to that. And he'd really prefer it if that didn't happen, since he actually _liked_ his job. Or he'd liked it a lot more before he'd been accused of stealing thousands of pounds from a credit card, even though it was practically impossible for him to do anything of the sort.

He sat on the threadbare sofa in the living area of his apartment. It was feeling particularly drab that evening, and Merlin really didn't have the budget to turn on the central heating considering how much rent he was paying. The people in the apartment below him always seemed to have their heating on full blast, though, so he got a fair amount of warmth from them. It can in quite handy, especially in the winter months. They were coming towards the end of February now, and after a particularly harsh winter, Merlin was looking forward to summer. The season where you just opened a window if you were too hot, and thankfully, that was free.

His Nokia was held in both of his hands. The number on the card had been typed in, and all that was left to do was think of the right thing to say and hit send. It was more difficult than it sounded, though.

- Hello, just wanted to know what the situation was with the credit card? It really wasn't my fault, and I hope everything's okay with it now. Merlin.

He surveyed the text for a moment, then moved his finger to the delete key. But he knew he could spend the next half hour debating the best way of phrasing those words, and the meaning would remain the same. Best to just send it now and get it over with. His thumb pressed down on the send button, and in an instant his shoulders felt lighter. Then, barely a heartbeat later, he started dreading the reply. He sighed; it was going to be a long evening.

On the other side of London, an iPhone vibrated the pocket of an upmarket pair of jeans.

Arthur ignored it, however, since he was impatiently waiting for the money from the only trust fund his father had authorised to be transferred over. He was tapping the toe of his well-polished shoe against the side of the table, since tapping it against thickly carpeted floor didn't create such a noticeable noise. Arthur wanted this done, and he wanted it done quickly. The thought of being completely without money was unsettling. Even more so was the knowledge that he had no way of changing that situation without the trust fund money. But it would be his shortly enough, even if it wasn't enough to keep him going for more than a few weeks. And much less if he didn't manage to control his spending habits.

"The funds are completely transferred now, Mr. Pendragon. The delay was just because we had to confirm the transfer details with your father. Company policy, and all that," the balding man told Arthur with a smug grin.

"Understandable," Arthur replied, a much more serious look on his features. "Next time, a quicker service would be appreciated." He tried not to think of when the next time would be, for he wouldn't be swapping money around for quite a while to come. He wouldn't even have any money to switch accounts. That was as long as his father held his promise, though, and with a bit of persistence, Arthur hoped it wouldn't be too long.

"Of course, Mr. Pendragon. We always try our best."

Arthur quickly grew tired of the conversation and made his excuses to leave. As he walked through the bank towards the exit, he checked his phone. Leon asking if he fancied a trip over to Italy for the football that weekend. Arthur rubbed his eyes, wondering how he was going to manage doing anything anymore. He was very aware that he didn't have a laptop after throwing the last one out of the window, and that had to be a priority over foreign adventures. There was another message from Gwaine, also about the Italy trip. It sounded like Arthur would be the only one in his friendship ground not going. Great, that had to be the perfect recipe for a boring weekend with no money, all on his own.

Then there was an automated reply from his online banking account, telling him about the transfer of finances both to and from his account. If only he hadn't seen that earlier...

Then the final message was from Merlin. He'd forgotten the sales assistant from earlier, occupying his thoughts with the poor state of his finances instead. But he did really need a new laptop, and the one he had been about to purchase had sounded good. The best, Merlin had said. And he did like the best...

Could he afford it anymore, though?

After thinking for a second, he saw a way of fixing both problems.

- May be willing to drop charges if you buy the laptop using staff discount, then I pay you for it in cash. Arthur.

Perhaps everything would work out okay in the end. Though it would be better not to worry about what he was going to do once the money ran out.

Oh, great. Merlin was being asked to break the rules of his workplace - not using your discount card to buy anything for anyone else, unless it's a gift. But it was that, or a court case and probably being fired. Finding a new job wouldn't be too difficult, but with the record that he'd been fired, rather than left, his last job... Well, everything would get considerably harder.

He sighed, considering the situation. But really, there was no choice.

- Okay, fine. Where and when?

He pressed his face into his hands after sending the message, wishing he'd never gotten into the situation. If he'd have just stayed away from the laptops for a bit longer... It wasn't like anything he was accused of was actually his fault, but it was better to be safe than sorry.

- Tomorrow. When do you have a lunch break?

- 12.45pm until half 1.

- 1pm outside the back of the shopping centre, where the deliveries are received.

Merlin knew the place well. It was exactly the place where you'd think a dodgy dealing was going to take place. At least there was unlikely to be anyone around there, though. Truck drivers would hardly care about what was going on, and besides, Merlin had more pressing problems at that moment. He texted back the number, feeling slightly more confident about the conversation than before.

- Okay. But there's one problem. I don't have enough money to just buy that laptop.

- That's not my problem. Do you want the court case or not?

- No... But you'll have the money when I meet you?

- Of course.

- Right, fine then.

And that was that. Merlin should have really stood up for himself more, but what could he do? He had no bargaining chips. Arthur held them all. It looked like he had a few calls to make.

Ten minutes later, he had a very suspicious Will on the phone.

"Merlin, what have you done? Are you in debt? It's not drugs, is it?"

Trust Will to jump to the worst conclusions.

"No, it's nothing like that at all. I just need a few grand, and I can give it back tomorrow afternoon. It's nothing - honestly!"

"No, Merlin. It can't be nothing. And you know as well as I do that I don't have a few grand lying around!"

He was right - neither of them was particularly well off.

"Well, it was worth a try," Merlin sighed, rubbing his eyes as he wondered what he was meant to do now.

"You know I'd help if I could."

"I know you would. Thanks Will." Then Merlin ended the call, before he would have to answer any more questions about why he needed the money in the first place. He really didn't want to get into it. Especially now that there was only one option that he could see which was still open to him...

There was a man that Merlin had heard about who lived on the bottom floor of the apartment building. And it was even dodgier than it sounded. The phrase "loan shark" had been bounced around by a few people, and Merlin had listened with a polite sort of interest, making a mental to never get involved. The repayment increases were extortionate, but that should be a problem if Merlin was going to pay the money back tomorrow. It was the only way he could think to get the money and end up not having to go to court.

Although, there was the possibility that he wouldn't actually be found guilty of anything if he was taken to court. After all, he was technically in the right. He had to keep reminding himself of that, though, because he kept forgetting with all the apologising he was doing. But he was thoroughly convinced that whoever could afford to walk into a shop and decide to buy a laptop worth thousands of pounds without even seeing it first could afford amazing lawyers. The kind that can twist your words and practically convince you to plead guilty. And Merlin didn't think he'd even be able to afford the worst.

Merlin grabbed the keys for his apartment and fled the room before he could change his mind.

Down in the bottom floors of the apartment building, the atmosphere was very different. It was much more unwelcoming, dirty and generally intimidating that the middle and upper floors. Merlin at least knew his neighbours where he lived, even if he didn't know much more about them than their names, or get on that well with them. But here, no-one asked questions and kept themselves to themselves. Thankfully, Merlin knew where he was going.

Apartment 1135.

Merlin stood in front of the door for a good ten seconds, trying to work up the courage to just knock. It was this, or prison. No job. He didn't really know what, if he was honest, but it was unlikely to be good. He took a deep breath and knocked. It opened almost immediately after his knuckles had left the wood.

Inside, the apartment stank. It hit him before he'd even crossed the threshold of the room. There was no sort of interrogation to get inside, so Merlin could only assume that any business was considered good business.

The door was closed behind him, and Merlin jumped slightly, throwing a look over his shoulder to see a toothy youth standing in the corner. Apparently he was on door duty.

Merlin advanced further into the dimly lit room, trying not to breathe in the pockets of smoke which seemed to be hovering around at random intervals. A rather portly man sat in an armchair, smoking whatever it was that Merlin was trying not to ingest. The armchair seemed to have moulded around his fat, rather than the man simply sitting in it. The picture wasn't exactly appealing, but Merlin tried to look past that, realising that this was the man who was most likely to be able to help him.

"I was looking to get a loan?"

"Ah, were you now?" the man replied in a gravelly voice. He'd obviously been smoking a lot and for a long time.

"Yes. Two thousand pounds," Merlin told him, since he'd worked out that would cover the price of the laptop with his discount taken off.

"And how long for?"

"A day."

The man's thick brown eyebrows raised almost into his hairline at that admission. "Only a day? How do you think you can get it back to me that fast?"

Merlin remained quiet, unsure as to what the right answer was.

"Never mind, I don't tend to get involved with reasons. As long as I get the cash. On that loan, I'll give you the two grand, and you'll pay me £2,200 tomorrow. Less than twenty four hours, yes?"

The rates were extortionate, Merlin knew that, but it wasn't like he could look up other loan sharks in the directory. This was his only shot.

"Deal."

"Okay, just so we're clear, I have guys who'll chase you up if I don't get the money within the time frame. Your balance goes up by two-hundred quid for every day I'm waiting, and you will pay it all back in the end. They'll make sure of that." Merlin gulped, but nodded.

"Right, Jed, fix me a contact." The boy at the door nodded as the fat man reached behind him, jiggling his roles of excessive body weight as he did so. He began counting the notes into his lap, and by the time he was finished a piece of paper was being shoved into Merlin's hands. There was barely anything to fill in - just his name, address, contact numbers and the names of other people who could be contacted in his absence. It just reminded him how much of a dodgy deal this really was. Once the boxes were filled in, he handed it over to the man. It was looked over briefly, then the cash was exchanged. Merlin tried not to bolt out of the door with it, but that probably wouldn't be the best impression to leave behind him.

"Thank you, Merlin Emrys. I'm Joe Bloggs, pleasure doing business with you," he man said, holding out a very chubby hand for Merlin to shake. He took it, and tried not to grimace at the sweat which had stuck to the contour lines of the man's palm. There was a very low chance that the name provided was the real one, but it was good enough for Merlin. Phase one was complete.


	3. Chapter 3

No-one ever asked Arthur for additional ID in order for him to withdraw money. With Platinum accounts, the bankers were supposedly meant to know their clients so well that it was never needed, and Arthur had never had a problem before. Of course that day, he had to have a problem. Because everything had been taking a turn for the worse as of late, and his perpetual dark mood was really taking its toll on him. Generally, he wasn't that pessimistic. He took things for granted a lot, he knew that. Money and being able to do what he wanted, whenever he wanted. And they were just two examples. He expected his apartment to have been cleaned when he got home after football on a Saturday, he expected some sort of engineer to be sent out at the first convenience whenever something went wrong, though he didn't expect anything to ever go wrong, really. He was generally just well looked after. Now that all that was starting to come crashing down around him, he didn't know how to be anything other than angry at the world.

"Fine, fine. You win, whatever," Arthur said eventually, pushing himself up from the leather armchair he'd been residing in for the last thirty minutes while people in suits bustled around, deciding what to do with him. "Don't let me have my money - but I can guarantee you will regret it," he threatened, then walked briskly out of the room, out of the bank, and towards the Green Valley shopping centre.

This complication was very inconvenient, but at the end of the day it wasn't Arthur that would be the one inconvenienced. And what did he care about a shop assistant he didn't even know?

He passed through the top layer of shops, casting a curious glance at the IT shop he'd spent time in the previous day, but didn't look too closely. He wasn't heading for there, after all. He caught a few escalators down to below street level, coming out in the delivery sector of the centre. Few customers headed down through the cold and unwelcoming bays, but no-one gave Arthur any funny looks as he passed. They had more important things to do than look at a passer-by - deadlines to meet, stock to deliver, boxes to sign for.

Hopefully, Arthur's box would be just around the corner.

Merlin hadn't anticipated how daunting it would be to walk into work with a few thousand pounds tucked casually in the pocket of his jeans. And worse still were the questions when he purchased the laptop from one of the other sales assistants. In response to their nosey questions, Merlin replied that he'd simply been saving up for a long time for it. In reality, there were much more important things, and less expensive things, which Merlin needed to spend his money on. There was no way he would have wasted such a lot on money on the top of the range laptop when there were much cheaper models available.

He'd been waiting in the pre-arranged spot for a good ten minutes. Well, they hadn't exactly arranged an _exact_ location. Merlin checked his phone for the exact wording, and realised it could be interpreted as either there or a few hundred feet away, closer to the main road. But hopefully, if there was a blonde tall man waiting in the other location, Merlin would be able to see him from where he was leaning against the wall. He sighed, looked at his watch, and waited.

Ten minutes passed, and there was definitely no-one else in the area.

A niggle of doubt started to creep up on Merlin's brain. Was this all just an elaborate hoax? But what was the point of it? He leaned his head back against the cold brick wall behind him and sighed. Closing his eyes, he told himself to breathe. Everything would turn out all right. It had to.

"Sleeping on the job, are we?"

Merlin pulled his head forwards, sucking in a surprised breath.

"Anyone could just reach out and take that box," Arthur said. In fact, he already had. The box containing the laptop was sitting neatly at his feet. Merlin felt incredibly glad that he was at least a slightly decent human being, since he hadn't just quietly ran off with the box before Merlin could be paid.

"It looks like you already have," Merlin pointed out, very unnecessarily.

"Yes, congratulations."

"So... where's the money?" Usually Merlin wouldn't have been so forthright, but this was serious. He wouldn't be able to rest easy until everything was paid back to the guy in apartment 1135.

"You never actually told me how much it cost."

"Two thousand two hundred," Merlin answered quickly.

"That seems like quite a lot... They don't give you very much discount, do they?"

"Well, they're not great to their staff."

"I see."

There was a brief pause, filled with expectation.

"Where is it, then?" Merlin said eventually.

"With you tomorrow," Arthur replied allusively, already turning on his heel.

Merlin's heart seemed to fly up into his throat, and he found himself unable to put make his mouth actually form words for a second. He tried to breathe and start again.

"You... you can't!" he choked out, uncoordinated footsteps hindering him as he tried to catch up with Arthur. "If... if it takes until tomorrow, it'll be £2,400!"

That, if nothing else, caused Arthur to turn around.

"I don't think you seem to understand," the blonde man said, injecting as much malice into his tone as possible. "I am the person in control here, and I will decide when you receive the money. Do I make myself clear?"

As much as Merlin tried to find the will power to stand up for himself and fight back, the harsh words automatically made him recoil into himself. He took a step backwards.

"Good. I'll be in touch."

Arthur might as well have disappeared in a puff of smoke for all the good it would do, since Merlin didn't even notice which direction he went in. He was too worried. Trying to breathe, he realised that he was awfully close to having a panic attack and that he needed to calm himself down. Breathe. In, out, in out.

Okay.

It would be okay.

As long as Joe Bloggs, or whatever the hell his name was, got the right amount of money for whenever Merlin managed to give it back to him, everything would be fine.

For now, the young wizard needed to focus on his afternoon shift at work. And he honestly didn't know if he could face it or not.

The text arrived that evening.

- Will have to reschedule for Thursday. Something's cropped up. Arthur.

This... this really had to not be happening. Thursday was two whole days away... two whole days, and four hundred quid. Great.

- You'll have to pay £2,600, then. Merlin.

The frustration and despair once again caused Merlin to be more forthright than he usually would be. He was surprised to realise he wasn't even very sorry for not being a bit more polite. This guy had messed him around too much already. Perhaps he would have been better just going for the option where he was put in court and let them say what they wanted about him. The facts were that he didn't have enough savings to pay off the loan shark; he could only put an end to the agreement when Arthur gave Merlin the money. And the shorter this whole agreement went on for, the better.

- Why do you keep sticking it up all the time? Let's guess, are you in debt?

- I wouldn't tell you even if I was.

Arthur sighed in the kitchen of his apartment, putting down the wooden spoon he'd been using to stir the pasta. It would have been easier to just buy the laptop outright, or have just settled for a cheaper model. It wouldn't have killed him, and wouldn't have even been as embarrassing as telling his friends that he wasn't able to go on the trip to Italy they had planned for the weekend. That had been awful.

The strained the pasta, then let it fall onto a plate with a surge of steam. There was a small pot of sauce which he'd headed up previously which went on top. And that was that. A meal which must have only cost a couple of pounds. So this was what normal people felt like, was it? Arthur sighed. He didn't really like it.

Tomorrow he would try to sort out his finances once and for all. He knew it would take at least a day to clear, though, so he'd told Merlin that it wouldn't be until Thursday. It was awkward, but unavoidable. The stranger from the IT shop would just have to learn to wait before he could get the money.

Meanwhile, on the other side of London, Merlin was becoming increasingly desperate. But two internet searches later, a look in a thick book which had barely seen the light of day since it was delivered to the door, and one phone call later, he had a plan.

**A/N – Sorry for the short chapter, I promise a longer one next time! Thank you for reading this far, it means a lot. Also, don't forget to leave a review on your way out. Thanks! **


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